


Sweet Nothings

by xOblivion_is_Gracex



Category: Actor RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Actor Chris Evans, Anxious Chris Evans, Bearded Chris Evans, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sweet, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xOblivion_is_Gracex/pseuds/xOblivion_is_Gracex
Summary: Imagine your boyfriend, Chris Evans, leaving sweet nothings for you around your hotel suite.





	Sweet Nothings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work that was originally posted on my tumblr: the-marvel-imagines-blog.tumblr.com

Your eyes opened, adjusting to the sun that spilled into the room from the beige curtains that had been left open the night before. It was another hotel in another city that never truly felt like home. You knew Chris well enough to know that he was comfortable having you by his side through press tours, but it always took a toll on you with every new movie. Chris had experienced a rather debilitating panic attack during the press tour for Civil War. While you found peace and solace in his costars being there to keep him grounded and anchored, one phone call from Robert made you realize just how significant your presence would be for Chris, who claimed to feel most at peace when he was with you.

Ever since, you travelled with him, always keeping a low profile. Chris understood that you wanted to keep your relationship private and as far under the radar as possible. Even though he wanted to take it public, he respected your wishes, knowing how harsh the tabloids could be when it came to any celebrity relationship,  _ especially _ one between an A-list celebrity like Chris and a “nobody” like yourself. He hated that word whenever you used it, reminding you that you had never been and never would be a “nobody,” but he understood the point you were trying to make. In an attempt to respect your need for privacy, Chris played the role of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor, and the women swooned over him, not knowing the side of him that was completely taken by you. He was a phenomenal actor.

While it was difficult at first to see the kind of effect he had on women, you rarely felt any jealousy. It was only in moments of loneliness when you felt envious of the interviewers and the fans because they were getting time with him. Oftentimes, by the time he returned to the hotel, he would find wherever you were, curl up next to you, and fall asleep as he whispered sweet nothings to you. You knew going into the relationship that Chris would be pulled in a million different directions, and you had so much pride when you saw him succeed, but there was another part of you that wished to have him all to yourself just for a day. You wished to leave the hotel with him, explore the sights, eat bad takeout, and get lost in each other’s eyes, but you couldn’t.

You rolled over in bed, wishing for him to be there but knowing that he was off for another day of interviews only return later that evening. A normal life wasn’t in store for you, which was both exhilarating and upsetting. You were madly in love with Chris, a man who checked  _ none _ of your proverbial boxes, which was why your closest friends were shocked when they met him. He was unlike any other boyfriend you’d ever had, and you weren’t complaining. Chris treated you like a queen, and while you two had arguments like any other couple, he wouldn’t let you go to sleep without telling you that he loved you. He was the fairytale that came true for you, and you never wanted to let that go, but the constant sneaking around was taking its toll on you and your relationship with him.

With a groan, you pushed yourself out of the bed, taking the sheets with you to cover your bare body and maintain some modesty. You glanced back down at the bed, a smile cracking on your lips as you took in the sight of the mess. Pillows were strewn across the mattress and the fitted sheet had been pulled off of one side. It was the only evidence that Chris had been in bed with you at all. Remembering the previous night, butterflies turned your stomach upside down. Walking out into the living room, you took in the brilliant rays of light from the open windows. He knew that you liked the morning sun, so every morning before he left, he would open the curtains and allow the sun to flood the living area.

Noticing an out of place sticky note hanging on the mantle above the fireplace, you walked over to it to see his handwriting. In quick notes to fans and his signature, his handwriting was legible but clearly looked to be rushed, which was understandable given the volume of autographs he gave. However, the notes he left for you were always done with care. His handwriting never seemed rushed, and it always felt like he took his time to think each note through. You plucked the yellow sticky note off the mantle and scanned it.

_ I love your tiny snores in the middle of the night. _

A smile spread across your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief, “what a dork,” you murmured to yourself, your eyes scanning the note over and over again. This was what you had of him throughout the day, little snippets of him. Accepting that it would be another lonely day, you turned around to pick up the remote on the coffee table in front of the couch only to see another yellow sticky note. You plucked it off the buttons of the remote and scanned the words.

_ I love that you can’t start the day without watching reruns of “The Golden Girls.” _

Upon turning on the TV, you saw that it had already been switched over from the news to the Hallmark channel where your favorite morning show was already playing. Turning it up to listen to it while you cooked breakfast, you made your way over to the kitchen area. It was a beautiful open plan, the living room and kitchen being completely connected. You opened the fridge, pulling out a jar of pickles before opening all the cabinets, lifting yourself onto the island counter, and staring into them. It had become a habit for the past week. You moved to open the pickle jar, but on the cap, you saw another note.

_ I love that I know this is going to be part of your breakfast, you little weirdo. _

You grinned, a blush rising to your cheeks. While you and Chris hadn’t seen each other much during the past week, he knew the change in you the moment it occurred. He was picking up another jar of pickles every night before he returned home because you “couldn’t live without them.” You twisted the lid off the jar and slipped one of the pickles out, biting into it to hear that crisp crunch. A light moan of approval escaped your lips, the savory flavor of the pickle greeting your taste buds as you scanned the open cupboards for any ideas for breakfast. The Fruity Pebbles seemed to jump out at you, but so didn’t the Trix. It had been quite some time since you indulged in the sweet cereals, but with these new, sudden taste changes, you practically begged Chris to pick up some of the most unhealthy foods you could think of, which was rather out of character for you, but you chalked it up to the stress and changes that were happening.

Standing on your tiptoes, you reached both boxes of cereal, opening them both. The smell of the sweet, sugary cereal had your mouth watering. Taking another bite of the crunchy pickle, you reached for a bowl and proceeded to dump both cereals into it, mixing the two together. Once you added the milk, you allowed both cereals to sit, wanting the Fruity Pebbles to become soggy enough to enjoy. That, too, was out of the ordinary. Realizing that you also wanted something savory, you stared up into the cupboards, until the thought came to you. A grilled peanut butter and banana sandwich with bacon. That was what you needed. It was suddenly clear that it would be the only thing to satiate you and your bizarre tastes that came about so suddenly.

With the hybrid cereal still set to the side and a partial pickle hanging out the side of your mouth like a cigar on the lips of a fictional drill sergeant, you gathered what you needed and turned on one of the burners to begin cooking the bacon. While the bacon began sizzling on the stove, you cut the banana into slices and opened the jar of peanut butter before biting into the pickle once more. As the bacon continued to cook, you prepared the bread, buttering one side of both pieces and adding peanut butter to the opposite side of both. When the bacon was cooked to perfection, you removed the strips from the pan before taking out a new pan and building your sandwich. The laugh track and jokes in the background helped you distance your mind from the monotonous task of flipping the grilled sandwich over and over again until it was perfectly browned on both sides.

Balancing the bowl of cereal, the plate with the grilled sandwich, and the jar of pickles in both hands, you made your way to the coffee table, where you set down each piece of your breakfast. Scarfing down the cereal, it managed to hit almost every spot and check every box, but the sandwich still called your name. You had been bloated for the past few weeks, your pants not fitting perfectly, and you had a feeling that it was because of your weird eating habits, but you were working out harder than ever before. Still, you were noticing the subtle changes in your body, and it made you more and more self-conscious. Still, Chris silenced those thoughts as soon as you brought them up, and you even received calls from his co-stars, inquiring if everything was okay. Sebastian, Scarlett, Hemsworth, Mark, and Robert had all been especially worried as you had grown close to each of them during yours and Chris’ relationship. It was clear that Chris spoke to them about you, but you never wanted to worry anyone, especially not with trivial matters like your body image.

Grabbing the sandwich, you bit into it, your mouth filling with tastes you thought you needed. After swallowing the piece you bit into, the smell of bacon throughout the hotel suite became far too apparent, almost like your sense of smell was heightened. Clearly, that was the superpower that had been bestowed upon you, even though in all the drunken games you’d played with Chris and his co-stars, you claimed that your ideal superpower would be the ability to control nature. Instead, your awareness of the greasy bacon and the smell of it all made your stomach turn to the point where you found yourself nearly falling to the floor while trying to run to the bathroom. Upon reaching the beautifully crafted bathroom, you threw yourself onto the marble floor in front of the toilet and emptied the contents of your stomach into the bowl. Each heave left you weaker than before, and you felt disgusting. What started out as a good morning was slowly but surely becoming a miserable one.

Once you were finished, you pulled your head out of the bowl, flushed the toilet, closed the lid, and sat down, finally feeling slightly better. You hadn’t been feeling nauseous at all until the smell of the bacon hit you, and you were genuinely looking forward to eating it, but the smell sent you sprinting into the bathroom to throw up all the food you had in you. Groaning in frustration, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror as well as another little sticky note. You scoffed, standing up and walking over to the sink where the note was placed above.

_ You are stunning, beautiful, miraculous, ethereal. You’re what my future looks like. _

Sizing yourself up in the mirror, you wondered who he was talking about. Your hair was disheveled, and you  _ looked _ like you’d just been sick. Ready to brush your teeth and get the disgusting taste out of your mouth, you opened the medicine cabinet to grab your toothpaste, already in the process of wetting your toothbrush. However, before you could close the cabinet with the toothpaste in hand, you caught sight of the unopened box of tampons that Chris had picked up at the supermarket for you. You had been expecting your period soon, so he picked them up for when it did start just so that you were prepared, but it hadn’t come. He bought the box of tampons a full month ago.

_ Shit _ .

You sat amongst five positive pregnancy tests, looking them over time and time again to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. There was no way. The drive out to the supermarket seemed like it took far too long, and the entire time, you drank bottle after bottle of water to ensure that you’d be able to take enough tests to confirm or deny your fear. As you sat before the five blatantly positive tests, you realized how detrimental this would be to Chris’ career. He wasn’t the father. He was the bachelor, the playboy, the party animal. He was the fun one, not the one who was kept busy with a family. The lines were clear, though, and the Clearblue “positive” reading only felt like a punch in the gut. You always dreamed of having babies, of meeting the right man and settling down to make a family, but with Chris, there was no such thing as settling down, not with the busy lifestyle he led.

You were happy, but what if your happiness cost him  _ his _ happiness? What if he didn’t want this life with you? Neither of you had been very careful, so it wasn’t a surprise that this happened. Of course, it wasn’t expected or anticipated, it was to be expected with the casual, nonchalant dismissal of protection. Chris had talked openly about starting a family with you someday, but what if someday wasn’t right now? What if someday wasn’t going to be with you after all? A fleeting thought occurred to you to just skip town, to leave before he had the chance to find out. It would’ve been better than watching him throw away his future to be with you. After all, you were a nobody.

Shaking the thoughts from your mind, you stared down at the tests and wondered if this was for the best. You and Chris had been together for nearly five years, and he often talked about marrying you. Chris was always outspoken about his love for you, about his dream of being with you forever. The two of you often talked about your future children, and you knew how taken Chris was by the idea of having a little girl first, even though you always pegged him as the type to want a son. As you continued to stare down at the tests, you wondered how this was possible, how any of this could be happening. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to see him through the rest of the Marvel movies, then maybe get married between the end of his career as Captain America and the next project he would start working on. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Unsure of what else to do, you found yourself frantically dialing Robert’s number, tears welling up in your eyes as your hands trembled violently, “what’s up, buttercup?” he asked, his voice smooth and comforting, which was exactly what you needed in that moment. When you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, afraid that your voice would crack and send you hurtling into the pit of anxiety beneath you, you sensed his panic, “is everything okay?”

“Are you busy?” you asked, your voice quivering as you tried to contain the waterfall of tears. Every breath was labored, and it felt like your chest began to tighten more and more with every ounce of air you tried to pull in.

You listened intently as he put the phone to his chest and excused himself from whatever he was doing, carving out time for you, “you know that I’m never too busy for you, (Y/N). I can tell that something’s wrong, so what do you need from me?” he asked, the concern clear in his voice. He didn’t want to show just how worried he was, but you knew Robert well enough to know just how frightened he became when the well-being of those he cared for was in question.

You didn’t want to be a bother, but you couldn’t stand being alone, not with the weight of the world on your shoulders, “can you come over?”

“I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there in 20 minutes; I don’t care if I have to run there,” he promised, his voice filled with determination, the protective instincts kicking in. Robert was always like an older brother or a cool uncle to you. He was one of your closest friends after you’d worked as a personal assistant for one of his coworkers a handful of years ago. He was the reason you and Chris got together in the first place as he’d introduced you two over drinks. Robert had hired you as his PA after completing the movie he was working on, and he treated you with the utmost respect, regarding you as a human being instead of a “nobody,” which was the polar opposite of your previous “boss.”

Before he hung up the phone, ready to leave, you continued, “just...please don’t tell Chris that I called and asked you to come over,” you pleaded with him, not wanting to explain too much over the phone but also not wanting him to mention anything to Chris that would cause him to worry.

“You got it, sweet pea. Are you gonna be okay if I hang up the phone, or do you need me to stay on until I get there?” he asked, his main concern still about you.

A smile of appreciation spread across your lips because you knew that he wouldn’t have been bothered if you asked him to stay on the line with you. He wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it, he wouldn’t have huffed and puffed, and he wouldn’t have held it over your head in the weeks or months to follow. All he cared about was that his friends were okay, and you were lucky enough to be considered one of his closest friends, “I’ll be okay. I’ll see you in a bit, though,” you insisted, wanting to ease the concern you knew was building within him.

“I’m gonna leave as soon as I hang up, but if you need  _ anything _ between now and when I get there, don’t hesitate to call me back, okay?” he asked, not wanting you to be left alone with thoughts that could lead to unsavory outcomes. You knew Robert well enough to know that he was entertaining the worst possible scenarios, but you couldn’t tell him what was really going on over the phone. All you could do was wait for him to get there.

You nodded your head, “if I need you, I’ll call you, but I think I’ll be alright until you get here.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he replied before hanging up the phone in a hurry. You knew how worried he must have been. It wasn’t a normal occurrence for you to call him in tears and ask for him to come over to be with you for a bit, and it was  _ especially _ unlike you to keep anything from Chris. If he had it his way, he’d be able to snap his fingers and be by your side in the blink of an eye, but you were left waiting, thinking of the sweet nothings that Chris had left for you throughout the suite and wondering if they would be the last ones.

It was growing later into the evening, and the echoes of your sobs had slowly been forgotten by the walls of the suite. Robert had made it to the hotel in a record 15 minutes, which was far quicker than you anticipated, but when his driver was caught in traffic, he decided to run the last handful of blocks to where you were. Was it dangerous for an A-list celebrity to be running down the streets unaccompanied by security? Of course, it was. Did he make a big deal out of it? Not at all. He barely called attention to the way he had been panting when he arrived, unable to do much of anything while holding back the waterfall of tears. Upon thanking him for running in order to make it within the time frame he’d set for himself, his response was, “Chris would’ve made it even faster if you had called him,” which was what punched the hole in the wall of the dam that had been successfully holding back the tears. As soon as the first one fell, Robert pulled you into his strong arms and held you.

He was the first person you told, and you felt slightly guilty about it, but his expression when you told him was priceless, pure, and so genuine. He looked to be ecstatic, excited for two of his closest friends to be welcoming a life into the world. Plus, he claimed to have already known, explaining that as soon as Chris told everyone that you were having weird cravings, Robret had insisted that you were “probably pregnant.” It was apparently something that Susan experienced with both of her pregnancies, and when he pieced that together with your sudden self-consciousness and feeling bloated, he claimed that he knew exactly what was going on.

When you voiced your fears that Chris might not want this, that he might not be ready for a baby, Robert was quick to silence those as well. He told you how over-the-moon Chris was at the mere idea that you could be pregnant. Robert’s words of assurance led to you leaving Chris a sweet nothing in the bathroom that was surrounded by the various pregnancy tests you had taken throughout the day. Only after you’d calmed down and grounded yourself did Robert feel comfortable leaving, but it took a lot of convincing. He had been so worried about you, and you knew that his protective nature around you would only be that much stronger now that he knew your little secret.

The door opening to the suite startled you back to the present, and you resumed your task of drying the dishes and putting them back into their correct places. It had been a full day of cleaning ever since Robert left. You turned on music and kept yourself busy in hopes of drowning out the prevalent doubts about just how strong your relationship with Chris was. While Robert tried to put your fears and doubts to bed, there was only so much you could hope for. Throughout the day, you emptied every cabinet of dishes and washed them all, you scrubbed the floors, cleaned the rugs, dusted every inch of the suite, rearranged all of the food to be in order based on color. It was a productive day of just wasting time.

Before you had time to turn around and greet him with the rehearsed smile you had prepared to keep him from reading into your anxious demeanor, you felt those strong arms wrap around the front of your waist. He tucked his head into your neck, his scruff tickling you as he pressed soft, sweet kisses against your skin. His breath was warm and tired, but even in his exhaustion, he still found time for you, “mmm, it’s been a long day,” he murmured, the fatigue clear in his voice. He was getting burned out, and you knew what that was going to lead to. Sooner rather than later, you’d hold him through another panic attack, reminding him that everything was going to be okay, that you were there with him, that he  _ wasn’t _ dying. His job and his devotion to you pulled him in two different directions, but you were always the one who had to witness him fall apart because of it, and it broke your heart.

“How is everyone?” you asked, knowing exactly how Robert was but not wanting to give him any reason to think anything was going on. You couldn’t come out and tell him that you called one of his closest friends to come over and talk you through what was both the happiest and lowest moment of your life.

“Well, they all miss you, that’s for sure,” he stated, turning you around to face him. He always claimed that seeing you was the very best part of his day, so you never kept yourself hidden from him. He was a sight for sore eyes, and he described you like you were a goddess amidst the human race. He was absolutely taken by you, and you never understood why. He pressed a shy kiss against your lips, which you found endearing from the very first kiss you shared. The first kiss of each day was always one of those. He would linger there for a moment, basking in the feel of your soft lips against his, and when he pulled away, the color would rush into his cheeks as he fought back a big, dorky grin. As soon as he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open to see the familiar reaction he had when he kissed you.

He laughed it off, “they all want to get together again soon, and Hemsworth was talking about maybe having a get together at his suite sometime soon. It would be just us, so we could all hang out together. They miss you like crazy, though, especially Scarlett. She says that you made it feel like less of a boys club,” he grinned, trying to lighten your mood. He could tell that something was off, and you were well aware of that. It wasn’t easy to hide your true feelings from him, not after being together for so long. He cleared his throat, the playfulness falling from his features, “you know, Robert made a pretty good point early this morning before he ran off, so...I had Scott stop at the store and pick something up just to be discreet. I mean, it doesn’t make sense for Scott to pick it up, but...he offered when I called him,” he rambled, clearly having something on his mind.

You knew what Robert had insinuated earlier that morning to Chris when he brought up your weird food cravings, but you didn’t want to call attention to the fact that you already knew. Instead, you played none-the-wiser. Putting the towel down, you draped your arms around his neck, stroking the skin right below where his hair started, “something’s on your mind, what is it?” you asked, trying to decipher what he was feeling. Was he upset by the possibility that you could be pregnant? Was he happy? Was he angry?

A light of hope filled his eyes, and if you hadn’t spent years overhearing acting tips and tricks, you would’ve burst into tears. He didn’t look scared or angry or frustrated at the idea that you could be pregnant with his baby. Instead, he looked hopeful, enthusiastic, and secure. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, trying to look for the right words to say, “sweetheart, what if...what if Robert was right?” he asked, his full eyebrows rising as you felt the unspoken joy radiating from him.

“Well, what did he say?” you asked, urging him to continue explaining it to you as to continue the act you were putting on.

“He said that...well, Susan used to get these weird cravings when she was... _ pregnant _ ,” he explained, putting a heavy emphasis on the word  _ pregnant _ , but it wasn’t to implicate you. Instead, it was to ease himself into saying the word. It was foreign to both of you. You had one pregnancy “scare” in the past when you first started seeing each other, but you were also trying to use as much protection as possible. You were on the pill, and he always used protection. It ended up being nothing, but it wasn’t something you worried him with. You never told him that you were nervous you could be pregnant, so he didn’t have the same experience with “the word” that you did. He continued, “he just said that a lot of what I was describing was what Susan used to do when she was pregnant, especially in the early stages, and everyone else said the same thing. Scarlett said that she felt bloated and started getting cravings early on. Everyone pretty much jumped on Rob’s idea, and I’m just...it got me thinking about it, so Scott picked up a pregnancy test just so we know... _ definitively _ ,” he explained, trying to hide the light in his eyes that glimmered as he spoke of potentially building a family together.

While it would be unexpected, you could see in his eyes just how excited he was to find out whether or not you would add a baby into your already hectic lives. You nodded your head, knowing that the moment he went into the bathroom and found the already conclusive pregnancy tests that there would be no need for this new one, “I’ll take it once I’m done drying off the dishes,” you agreed, not wanting to say anymore in fear of ruining the surprise waiting for him in the bathroom, “but could you start running a bath for us? It’s been a long day, and I’ve missed you like crazy,” you explained, pressing a kiss to his cheek before leaning your head against his chest. You could hear the gentle thud of his heartbeat, the one that lulled you to sleep countless nights, the one that reminded you that this wasn’t all just a beautiful dream.

“I can’t tell you how phenomenal you are. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be on your end of this, but I know that every minute I’m not with you feels like I’m just wasting time,” he confessed, stroking his fingers through your hair.

You shook your head, pulling away from him just enough to catch his gaze. His arm still stayed locked around your waist, keeping you close to him. He told you countless times that you made him feel safe and secure, that you kept him grounded. When he was with you, he didn’t want to let you go, afraid that you would just disappear into thin air, that somehow he’d wake up and find out that this was all just a dream. Your eyes were stern as they met his, “don’t say that. You worked so hard to be where you’re at right now,” you reminded him, not wanting him to lose sight of the dreams he had.

“But none of it means a thing if you’re not with me every step of the way,” he replied, his voice filled with certainty. Chris wasn’t the biggest talker, but when he spoke, he meant every single word. He was an honest man, a  _ good _ man, so when he told you something, you never feared whether or not he meant it. He pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for longer than usual. His scruff tickling your skin, “I love you, (Y/N), and I want to show you off to the world, you know that, right?” he asked, his warm breath cascading across the skin that had been starved of his touch all day.

“I do, but you know how the world can be,” you replied, the tips of your fingers trailing along his strong jaw that hid beneath the scruff.

“You’re what my future looks like, (Y/N),” he repeated the same words that you found on the bathroom mirror that morning, “I love  _ you _ , and I want  _ you _ . Nothing in the world could change that, not even the world itself,” he exclaimed, never wanting you to think that you were second best. He never made you feel like you weren’t adored by him, that you weren’t his queen. However, he couldn’t silence the love he had for his craft, and you’d never ask that of him. Seeing him happy made him happy, but the constant struggle he felt was causing more and more distress in his life. He was struggling to find a balance between his work and you, but you knew that if he had to make the choice, he’d inevitably choose you, and that scared you. You didn’t want to rob the world of his talent, so if the time came, you wondered if it would make his life easier if you just...left. Now, the decision wasn’t so clear.

“Well, I love you right back,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him in for a warm embrace. God, you missed the smell of him when he was gone. Even though his scent lingered on your skin and on the bed, there was nothing like holding him, drowning in his everything. You buried your face into his chest, “I saw your notes this morning. They were beautiful,” you murmured, your voice muffled by the blue shirt that always seemed too small for him. No shirt fit him perfectly. It was either just right for his torso but too tight on his arms, or it was too loose on his torso but just right on his arms. This one held his biceps snuggly, and if he flexed at all, you were sure it would burst at the seams.

He leaned down to plant a kiss to your lips. That kiss was far more playful than before. His lips were hungry against yours, almost as if he, too, felt starved of your touch. In one swift motion, his hands were at your sides, and he lifted your body as if you were as light as a feather. Your legs locked around his waist as you lost your hands in his brown locks, melting into his kisses. His strong hands anchored you against him before he turned and rested your body atop the counter, keeping himself pressed between your legs, his fingers grazing the supple skin of your thighs. The action caused the butterflies to erupt from your stomach, and a shiver tore through you, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. He pulled away from the kiss with a lighthearted laugh as he felt the physical evidence of your excitement, “the notes were nowhere near as beautiful as you,” he mused, gazing down at you.

“Oh, shut up,” you giggled, grabbing the damp towel and hitting his shoulder with it playfully. He snatched it from your hands before reaching behind you and pulling your body flush against him. You arched your back, pressing your chest against him as he captured your lips once more. His fingers trailed up to the button of your denim shorts that you barely managed to get on, but before he could start undoing them, you pulled away, reaching down to stop him. You couldn’t get carried away with him until he knew what was waiting for him in the bathroom. Before he had the chance to overthink what just happened and your act of pulling away from him, you spoke, “I left you a note in the bathroom. You can’t miss it,” you whispered against his lips, giving him a quick kiss.

He nodded his head, “I’ll go start the bath, and I’ll be back out in a few,” he claimed before turning on his heel and walking toward the bedroom door that would lead him into the beautiful bathroom. As he walked away, he peeled his shirt from his body to reveal the white undershirt that perfectly showcased his incredible physique. You had to consciously fight off the urge to follow him into the room and tear his clothes off before pouncing on him like a tiger.

As soon as he disappeared into the room, you took a long, deep breath. Within mere moments, he would know. Within mere moments, your relationship would be changed forever, and you were unsure whether it would be for the better or worse. You placed your hand on your stomach, staring down at the shirt that seemed a bit tighter on you than usual, “you’re already a troublemaker, you know that?” you asked the little life you and Chris made together before listening intently to the silence throughout the suite. When you didn’t hear the water running, you knew that  _ he  _ knew. It was only a matter of time before-

“(Y/N)?” his voice sounded from behind you. You closed your eyes, trying to will away your nerves, but you couldn’t. You felt your stomach turn but swallowed back the sudden urge to throw up again. The anxiety only upset your weak stomach even more. The metallic taste filled your mouth as you turned around to catch his teary gaze. He looked so different than you had planned on. In one hand, he held one of the positive pregnancy tests, and in the other, he held the note you had left for him, which was an edited version of his that read:  _ You are stunning, beautiful, miraculous, ethereal. You’re what my future looks like. - _ **_Both of us?_ **

You drew arrows from the added part of the note to all the positive pregnancy tests that surrounded it. His reaction was nothing like you had anticipated. In no version of this did you think he would be so emotional about finding out. Tears filled his blue eyes, cascading down his cheeks before being caught in the scruff, “are you pregnant?” he asked, holding up the test and note, showcasing them to you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head, “are you mad?” you asked, worried that somewhere inside him, he was upset by the news, even though his expression did nothing to cast any of those doubts. Still, you knew what this would mean for his career and his role as Hollywood’s signature bachelor.

“Mad?” he asked as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why you would think such a thing in the first place. The smile never left his face, even in his confusion. He looked happier than ever before, and you’d seen him at some of his happiest moments, “we’re gonna have a baby!” he beamed, dropping the note and the test to the floor as he closed the space that sat between the two of you. He threw his arms around you, lifting you up from the floor and burying his face into your neck. You felt his warm tears of joy as they wet your neck, and you held him until the emotions subsided. When he finally pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours, leaving you to melt in his arms. His hand rested on your abdomen where your love had manifested itself as a small human being who you hoped would have his eyes and your manageable hair, “and to answer your question...yes,  _ both of you _ .”


End file.
